


i shouldn't go anywhere without my heart (it's been with you)

by puddingcatbeans



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Domestic Fluff, Friendship/Love, M/M, Moving In Together, Roommates, more like canon? i don't know her
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-09 03:54:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27498301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/puddingcatbeans/pseuds/puddingcatbeans
Summary: The summer before their first year of university, Noctis and Prompto move in together.or, cohabitation with your best friend: not really a guide by noctis lucis caelum.
Relationships: Prompto Argentum & Noctis Lucis Caelum, Prompto Argentum/Noctis Lucis Caelum
Comments: 22
Kudos: 120





	i shouldn't go anywhere without my heart (it's been with you)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [darlathecyborgpluviophile](https://archiveofourown.org/users/darlathecyborgpluviophile/gifts).



> happy birthday cyborg!!!!!!! i hope u have a wonderful day and i hope this gives you an extra smile or two~
> 
> i've missed these two a lot and i've been spending some time imagining moving out and getting a cat but alas, i must live vicariously through my fictional faves for now. apologies if this feels rushed at some points! no warnings, no angst, none of that empire seige/roadtrip to hell canon - only good times and good vibes! enjoy!!
> 
> title from "i wouldn't know any better than you" by gentle bones  
>  _I wouldn't know any better than you  
>  Would you care to move in together?  
> I wouldn't know anyone who understands me like you do_

__

“This is my last box!” Prompto announces, hefting said box over the threshold and dropping it next to all the other boxes in the living room.

“Good for you,” Noctis says. “Specs says he’s on his way with Gladio. They’ve got the last ones for me. Should I ask them to pick up food on the way?”

“Ooh, can we get takeout from that chicken place by the rec centre? The one with the Ifrit-level spice option.”

“Still don’t know how you have a tongue after eating those.” Noctis sends Ignis a text for the order anyway. He adds on a few of those tiny macaroni salads that kind of taste like glue and mayo, just in case. 

Prompto flops down on the sofa. It’s the same one from Noctis’ previous apartment, the dark, leathery thing that has seen him through his angsty high school years. Truthfully speaking, it’s not the most comfortable thing. But after way too many nights gaming and passing out on it, Noctis can’t imagine any other sofa to be sitting in the living room. Prompto evidently agrees.

“Can you believe it?” Prompto is saying. “We’re moving in together! Our own apartment! Wow!”

Noctis smiles. He shoves at Prompto’s feet until there’s space for him to sit down, and then pulls Prompto’s legs over his lap. “Yeah. Though you stayed over at my place so often, Specs once asked if you’d moved in by accident.”

“That’s because his cooking is to die for, Noct. Going home to microwaveable meals or going to Noct’s where there is a sixty percent chance of hot food ready to be plated? A no-brainer there, bro.”

“Fair. But he said we’re on our own for food now. Adulting, or something.”

Prompto looks at him in horror. “He’s not going to feed you anymore? Oh, Six, we’re gonna starve by the end of the week!”

“... There’s always microwaveable meals.”

“Is it too late to unsign the lease?”

Noctis shoves at his shoulder. They haven’t unpack the pillows yet, so there isn't any extra ammo. It doesn’t bother them, though. Prompto kicks back at him, and then lets out a loud squeal when Noctis pushes him off the sofa. By the time Ignis and Gladio arrive, the two of them are collapsed on the wooden floor, hair a mess and wearing twin smiles on their faces.

It’s a good day to move in.

*

“So, a desk and a bookshelf,” Noctis says. They’re standing in the parking lot of EKIA, Gladio’s borrowed car carefully parked behind them. It’s a busy weekend morning. The first day of class is barely a week away, and they want to finish up their new apartment before they lose themselves in the whirlwind of syllabi and freshmen icebreakers.

“And kitchen stuff,” Prompto adds.

“Right.” Noctis looks at the doors, and then back at his best friend. “Ready?”

“As we’ll ever be.”

They march in together, nodding politely to the greeter and stepping onto the escalator in an orderly fashion. There are so many signs. Families with children pushing carts, bright bubbly promotions, arrow stickers on the ground directing through the showcase rooms. It’s... a lot, considering Noctis has only ever shopped at malls. Ignis did all the grocery shopping, and his old apartment came pre-furnished. Well. Maybe Ignis handled that, too.

He immediately loses Prompto on the third floor.

Pressing down on his panic—this place is so huge and winding like a maze, what if he is stuck here  _ forever, _ they’ll have to find a new heir to the throne—Noctis has his phone out ready to call when he spots the familiar head of gelled-up blond. They’re in the bedroom showcases, veering into children’s rooms with the bunk beds and colourful lamps, and Prompto is standing in one of the mock rooms.

“Dude,” Noctis says. “I thought I’d lost you.”

Prompto turns. A giant chocobo grins at Noctis, its wide, cartoon-ish eye staring at him. “Noct!” the chocobo exclaims. 

“... Prompto?”

The chocobo’s head moves aside to reveal Prompto’s beaming face. “He’s more than half my size! He’s perfect!”

“Dude,” Noctis says again. “What do you even need a giant chocobo for?”

“To have and to hold!” Prompto hugs the chocobo tight. His face turns into a pout, and Noctis knows he’s lost the fight before it even began.

They drag the chocobo along. The furniture is easy to find, after asking a wild employee amongst the intimidating shelves of diagrams and wooden frames. They double back downstairs to hunt down kitchen stuff. Technically, their cupboards are filled with mismatched cups and plates and cutlery brought from both their previous places of residence. But it would be nice, to have matching sets, to have extra sets, for when they have guests. Like real adults. The chocobo sits in the corner while they debate on the right colour for the tea kettle.

It’s ridiculous, Noctis thinks, arguing about trivial things like this. But Prompto is pointing out some fruit-shaped coverings for the stovetop, his freckles standing out under the bright lights of the store. Noctis can’t think of anywhere else he’d rather be.

*

Noctis likes to sleep in. It’s a well-known fact, a terrible habit, as Ignis would say, but it’s not going to change anytime soon. He has the big heavy curtains over his window, drenching his room in shadows until he is ready to face the day. He chose afternoon classes and no one stopped him.

Prompto is an early riser. He still goes for jogs in the morning, before class, like the weirdo he is. Their apartment is in a convenient location; close to campus and near several bus stops, with a park down the block that is framed by the river. Prompto told Noctis about his newfound jogging routes once, when Noctis was still a groggy-eyed lump on the couch after Prompto came back from his post-jog shower. 

Being the bright, sunny person he is, Prompto makes breakfast for the two of them. It’s nothing special, usually just toast and eggs, maybe ham and a fruit smoothie if he is feeling fancy. But to Noctis, stumbling out of his bedroom around noon, finding a plate of food waiting for him under a pot lid to keep the dust off—these breakfasts are a large part of the reason he looks forward to climbing out of bed each day.

Prompto usually makes lunch for them, too. Noctis had just been stocking up on instant ramen and making runs for the convenience store before class, but.  _ Prompto can cook. _ Not well, nothing like Ignis, whose affinity for food started as necessity and then bloomed into real passion. But Prompto had been living on his own since he was a teenager—maybe even longer—and eventually one got tired of convenience bento boxes. That’s what he said, anyway. Noctis tagged along for groceries once. Prompto knew how to test the ripeness for fruits and what discounts on bread were worth the money. So, Prompto cooks.

He makes simple dishes, usually. A little pasta for dinner, in between their lazy takeout nights. Fried rice, omelettes, onigiri made from leftovers. Instant ramen, but made fancy, with sliced pork and an egg and everything. Simple dishes, soothing on the belly after a long day of classes.

Today, Noctis wakes up earlier than usual. After nine, and Prompto’s back from his run and in the shower, but still. Noctis wanders into the kitchen and eyes the empty lunchboxes on the counter. He glances down the hallway where Prompto’s warbled offkey singing drifts from the bathroom. Then he rolls up his sleeves.

By the time Prompto comes back out, his hair gelled back up with his mountain of hair products, the kitchen counter is filled with way too many things. Ham slices, hard boiled egg, a box of questionable potato salad from who knows when, mayonnaise, even disgusting lettuce. Noctis has a butter knife in hand.

“Uh, bro?” Prompto blinks. “What’s, uh. What’s up?”

Noctis sighs. “Sandwiches.”

“Yeah, I can see that, buddy.” Prompto spots the lunchboxes lined up by Noctis’ impromptu workstation. “Oh. Are you... making lunch?”

“Yeah. Thought I might give it a try, since you do it all the time.”

“You know I don’t mind, Noct.”

“I know, but.” Noctis stares at the slightly too-toasted bread on the plate. He mumbles, “I just wanted to do something nice for you, too.”

Prompto doesn’t say anything. Then, he steps around the counter and all but crashes into Noctis, nearly knocking the knife into the sink. “Aw, Noct, you’re gonna make me cry! You’ll ruin all the hard work I put into my eyeliner today!”

“Get off me,” Noctis grumbles. Neither of them mention that he’s hugging Prompto back just as hard. “Do you want a sandwich or not?”

“Hmm. Will you put tomatoes in mine?”

“Obviously,” Noctis says. “I’m not eating them.”

Prompto grins at him. “That’s why we work so well together, Noct.”

*

Sharing space with someone else is... strange. 

Noctis is the sole heir to the throne, the crown prince, a public figure since before he even took his first breath. He’s well aware of the privilege he carries, having access to any material thing he wants, having people around him defer to his preferences. He’s spoiled, he knows, but he likes to think he’s aware of it enough that he tries not to be spoiled. Much. Sure, he might whine at Ignis until the guy helps him out, but it’s also thanks to Ignis and Gladio that he’s cultivated an accepting and mellow attitude towards most things. 

The point is, Noctis isn’t used to sharing space with someone. He’s had sleepovers with Prompto before, but it was different. Falling asleep on the couch after gaming all night—okay, to be fair, they still do that and hopefully will continue to do that—is not the same thing as coming home to someone. It’s not bad. Just... needs getting used to.

Noctis trips over Prompto’s shoes in the entranceway. He sighs and bends down to put both their shoes away neatly on the shoe rack before he registers what he is doing. Then he spends five minutes just sitting there, staring at the door. If only Ignis could see him now.

Noctis yawns his way into the bathroom to brush his teeth before he leaves for class. It smells like hair product and Prompto’s favoured cologne. The guy’s not messy, not really, actually he’s usually better about cleaning and vacuuming than Noctis is, but he’s a hoarder. And he insists on a twelve-step care routine for his hair, or was that his skin, or was it both? Noctis doesn’t know. He uses soap and one (1) bottle of lotion. So Noctis pushes the bottles back against the mirror and hopes they don’t topple over while he takes a piss.

Noctis opens the fridge and finds mineral water and salad.  _ Salad.  _ He grabs his soda and shuts the door as fast as he can.

Noctis goes to grab a sweater to find his laundry hamper empty. The hoodie he keeps on his chair is also gone. He checks with Prompto, who has his headphones on while he taps away at his laptop. “I did the laundry,” Prompto tells him, “figured might as well do yours.”

So, yeah. Some getting used to. But it’s not unpleasant. There are times when Noctis can barely remember what it was like to live alone, to live without sharing space with Prompto.

Noctis trudges down the hallway to the apartment after a terrible day of pop quizzes and nearly being mobbed by touring high schoolers who accidentally caught a glimpse of the prince by the student union building. He opens the door, backpack already halfway off his shoulder, and there is Prompto, sliding into view on his socks, saying, “Welcome home!”

Noctis submits his essay with five minutes to spare and goes to the kitchen in search of a midnight celebratory snack. There’s a box of Pop-tarts sitting on the counter and a sticky note that says  _ eat one for good luck!! _ with a badly doodled chocobo underneath. 

Noctis scrolls through his phone on Prompto’s bed while he waits for him to finish his work, and ends up falling asleep. He wakes up tangled up in Prompto’s comforter and Prompto’s limbs, the lights turned off and the apartment peacefully quiet. He goes back to sleep, Prompto’s steady heartbeat pressed to his ear.

Sharing space with someone is strange. But sharing space with Prompto? It feels like the easiest thing. It feels like coming home.

*

Noctis wakes up to searing pain thundering through his back. He can barely roll over. He has only two classes today, but just thinking about leaving the bed has him in tears.

A knock on his door. “Noct? You’re going to be late.”

He opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. Resigned, he closes his eyes. But the door pushes open, and Prompto’s figure is framed in the doorway for one suspended moment. And then his best friend is sitting at the edge of his bed, a cool hand brushing through his hair.

“Bad day?” Prompto says.

“Hurts,” Noctis says through gritted teeth. 

Prompto hums. “Okay. I’ll text your profs. Do you want me to call Gladio?”

Noctis thinks through the pain. “Later. I—Can you get me my pills before you leave?”

“Yeah. I can skip, too—”

“Don’t,” Noctis interrupts. “Not for me.”

Prompto looks at him. In the dark of Noctis’ room, he is only a fuzzy, comforting shape. But Noctis can imagine his expression just the same: concerned, earnest, steady. Always steady. “Okay,” Prompto says eventually. “My class isn’t until two, anyway. I’ll wait until Gladio gets here and then go, okay?”

Noctis doesn’t bother arguing. “Prom.”

“Hm?”

“Thanks.”

“Just feel better, Noct.”

*

Near the end of the semester, with exams still a few weeks away, Noctis comes back to several potted plants hanging out in the living room. He blinks at them, and then wanders into the kitchen.

“Uh, Prom?”

“Hnnh?”

“Why are there plants in the living room?”

Prompto blows his bangs out of his eyes, concentrating on kneading dough. He’s stress baking. He’s not very good at it, but Noctis gets to eat the disaster results, so whatever. “They’re my kids.”

“What?”

“There was a vendor in the main plaza today,” Prompto explains. “Selling them for cheap, indoor plants, you know. And I’ve always wanted some succulents. So I took them home.”

“I thought people usually took home stray kittens, not plants.”

“You’d be the one bringing home kittens, dude.”

Noctis shrugs. He has a fair point. “Where are you going to keep them?”

“I was thinking on the window there? We can have one in the bathroom, too—but I can keep them in my room, too, if you want.”

“I don’t mind.”

Prompto smiles at him. He has flour on his face. Noctis kind of wants to kiss him. “Ready to be plant co-parents with me?”

Noctis rolls his eyes. He goes to pour a glass of juice for Prompto before grabbing a soda for himself. “Hey,” he says. “If we succeed in keeping them alive for a few months... What do you think about getting an actual pet?”

Prompto’s entire face lights up. Noctis leans against the counter, suddenly feeling warm. He wonders if Prompto has preheated the oven yet. He wonders if he’s jumping into this too fast. He wonders what on Eos he’s been waiting for this whole time.

He watches Prompto talk and bake, and finds himself smiling. He doesn’t bother hiding it.

*

“It’s boiling, yeah,” Noctis says into the phone. He stirs the pot cautiously. Ignis is talking him through the instructions, and it’s not that hard, really, but Noctis wants to get it right, just in case.

“Noct?”

He turns around to find Prompto in the kitchen doorway, wrapped up in his blanket. His hair is flattened on one side where he was sleeping on it, and his eyes are bleary as he lists to the side. His face is flushed with fever.

“What are you doing out of bed?” Noctis says.

“Nnngh,” Prompto replies intelligently. After a moment, he manages, “Hungry.”

“Soup’s almost ready. Go sit down before you collapse.”

With the grace of whipped cream melting into hot chocolate, Prompto sinks into a chair by the dining table. He looks so small and miserable in that blanket. Noctis turns back to the pot, wishing it would finish faster. 

“How is Prompto?” Ignis’ voice asks from the phone.

Noctis had almost forgotten he was still on the call. “Fine,” he says. “He’s not throwing up anymore, so. How long do I do this for?”

“It should be alright now,” Ignis tells him. He rattles off more instructions on what to buy from the convenience store and how to bring down Prompto’s temperature. “If his condition becomes worse, call me over. Or go straight to emergency.”

“Yeah, okay. Thanks, Specs.”

“Take care, Noctis.”

He ladles out a generous bowl of soup and carries it over to Prompto. The other boy is slumped against the table, face scrunched up in a grimace. His eyes open when Noctis sets down the bowl.

“Aw, you made soup for me?”

“Specs talked me through it, so it’s not poisonous.”

Prompto laughs weakly. His hands are shaking when he sticks them out of the blanket, but they wrap around the bowl gratefully. “Thanks, Noct.”

“Drink up,” Noctis says. “The whole pot is for you.”

“Because you put vegetables in here?”

Noctis rolls his eyes. He reaches out to pet Prompto’s wild, sweaty hair. “Get better soon, dummy. It’s no fun without my partner in crime around.”

Leaning into Noctis’ touch, Prompto smiles. It’s tinged with tiredness, but his eyes are warm where they rest on Noctis. “Yeah,” he says. “I miss you, too.”

*

“Is that my shirt?”

Prompto looks down at himself. “Oh. Is it?”

Noctis squints. “Pretty sure it’s my shirt.”

“Okay. You want it back?”

“Don’t strip, I’m eating!”

“It’s nothing you haven’t seen before!”

Noctis throws a chicken nugget at him. Prompto laughs, catching it before it rolls onto the ground. It’s Friday, and instead of going to a party, they’re lounging on the couch marathoning some show Prompto’s classmate recommended. It’s not that good, in Noctis’ opinion, but that means they get to talk to each other over it, so maybe it is good, in that sense. He’s made Prompto laugh at least ten times already, which is a relief because midterms means Prompto goes all quiet and pale. Not even Donut, their rescue tabby, can cheer him up.

Prompto looks really good in his shirt.

“Hey,” Prompto says, three nuggets later. “There’s this exhibition. At the gallery. My club’s hosting the thing, sort of, it’s a joint thing with some charity, but uh. My photography’s featured in it. Do you maybe wanna go?”

“Dude,” Noctis says. “Do you even have to ask?”

Prompto smiles at him. It’s his genuine, soft smile, the one that makes his eyes go all crinkly, the one that Noctis likes to think is his and his alone. “You’re going to have to dress up.”

“Like you don’t do that for me when I drag you to those boring parties at the Citadel.”

“Fair. I do get excellent free food out of it, though.”

“Is there no free food at your event?”

“Uhhh, maybe those tiny sandwiches and fruits?”

“Gross, maybe I won’t be free after all.”

“Noct!”

“Kidding, kidding.” Noctis takes the last nugget and dunks it in the honey mustard. He holds it out to Prompto with both hands, a peace offering. Prompto rolls his eyes, and then leans forwards to grab it with his teeth. His lips brush against Noctis’ fingers. Their eyes meet. Holds.

“You still want to finish this episode?” Noctis asks.

“Bro,” Prompto says, “I don’t even know who the main characters are supposed to be.”

They exit out of Moogleflix and clean up the takeout boxes. Prompto tries to wash up their forks and plates, but Noctis tugs at his shirt— _ his _ shirt—until he gives up. Giggling breathlessly, trading tiny pecks of lips against blushing skin, they shuffle towards Noctis’ bedroom. Donut is shooed off the bed for the rest of the night.

*

“Fancy meeting you here.”

Noctis rolls his eyes. “I was waiting for you, stupid.”

Prompto gasps dramatically, grasping at his chest. “How dare you call your own boyfriend stupid! What kind of a prince are you! Watch me cry to the nearest paparazzi, this is going to be front page news.”

Turning, Noctis starts walking down the street. Prompto yelps behind him, but his footsteps hurry until they’re walking next to each other. Campus is nearly empty this time of day, night classes in session and most club activities over. Noctis’ office hours went a little longer than usual, so he figured he might as well wait for Prompto’s shift at the cafe to end. 

As Prompto chatters along beside him, telling him about the scandalous thing some classmate had said in their class discussion earlier that afternoon, Noctis looks up. There are lights strung up through the trees, in anticipation of Shiva’s Day just around the corner. It kind of makes campus look a little bit magical. 

Prompto shivers beside him. He’s still wearing that flannel shirt even though snowfall has been in the forecast for two weeks now. Noctis reaches out and tugs him close.

“Noct?”

“You’re putting on socks when we get home,” Noctis tells him. “I’m not dealing with your icy toes under the covers.”

“Hey, I can’t help that I run at a lower temperature than you do!” Prompto snuggles closer anyway. His smile turns a bit sly. “You know, I have the perfect idea of how you can warm me up...”

Noctis gives into the urge to kiss him to shut him up. Then he fastens his pace, tugging Prompto along. 

He can’t wait to go home.

**Author's Note:**

> -tbh moving out doesn't make u an adult at all. adulting isn't real, and anyone who tells u otherwise is lying through their teeth  
> -yeah they went to insomnia-equivalent of ikea. i wrote an entire paragraph about ikea meatballs before realizing it was coming from a hungry place. i miss shopping  
> -prompto can cook and no you can't change my mind  
> -prompto's parents probably moved to altissia full time but they still call him every once in a while, topped up his trust fund before they left. he's fine. they're fine. it's fine.  
> -they started to share noctis' bed a little before they actually got together but prompto's room is where they do most of their homework/keep donut's toys  
> -noctis joins prompto's stress-baking sometimes. his baked goods are better than prompto's but don't tell anyone  
> -why is lunchboxes two words. fight me
> 
> i'm @puddingcatbeans on tumblr/twitter :D


End file.
